


Silk and Ermine

by Sheepyboy



Category: 17th Century CE RPF, British Royalty RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: 17th Century, Blindfolds, Bodily Fluids, Come Swallowing, F/M, Feathers & Featherplay, Female Ejaculation, Fluff and Smut, Historical, Historical Figures, Historical References, Mistress, Oral Sex, Royalty, Sexual Content, Short One Shot, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheepyboy/pseuds/Sheepyboy
Summary: A bit of Royal naughtiness between Nell Gwyn and Charles II.
Relationships: Charles II of England/Nell Gwynn
Kudos: 3





	Silk and Ermine

Walking around in the nude was incredibly liberating. 

King Charles II never imagined that casting one's apparel off like this could bring such a feeling of great pleasure. He was in his private drawing room at the palace, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his mistress, Nell Gwyn. The king's sexual appetite was legendary. It had been a full week since he last spent time with her and to say he was growing a little...desperate, was putting it mildly. Ah, pretty, witty Nell and her fervent regard for pleasure.

"Good heavens. If anyone else were to see me like this,” he mused. It was quite a risk, meeting in this room instead of the bedchamber.  
He swiftly banished such doubts from his mind. He walked over to one of the large windows and glanced out. The courtyard was empty - good thing too, for any person who looked up would be treated to a full view of His Majesty completely disrobed. He stepped back and quickly closed the curtains. Yet he couldn't deny that he'd been tempted to flash someone - especially that most comely servant girl who frequently crossed the courtyard to take food to the stable boys.

Charles strolled around the parlour enjoying air against his bare skin. It had been another hot July day - not as hot as yesterday though, just right. He had requested that his robes be brought to him, much to the bewilderment of his staff who reminded him that the garments were only meant to be worn during official engagements.  
Charles sat down on the settee and felt the luxurious soft ermine brush his skin.

"Hark at that. What a sensation."

The robes were lined with the finest red silk. 

"I'll have to put these robes on the floor, they're too big to be on this settee...for what I have in mind later...oohh my but the silk does feel incredible on my belly and thighs..."

A knock on the door brought the King to his senses. Quickly he wrapped himself up in his robes and cleared his throat.

"Come in!"

Nell entered. "Good evening," she purred, in a voice that could stir the most stubborn of loins. She paused as she saw him swaddled up on the settee in his robes. "You must be stifling under those ceremonials!"

"Ahh, my dear Nell...stifling is putting it mildly. "He was already hard. The robes slipped off his shoulders, and she realised he was naked.

"My King, what *hath* happened to thine apparel?" She teased.

He stood up and let the robes fall to the floor, and expected her to gasp, but of course, it didn't shock her in the slightest.

"What am I to do with a monarch who presents himself to me in such a manner?"

Charles trembled with excitement. "My lady, I hereby submit to you," he meekly replied.  
She reached up under her petticoat and removed something that she'd had hidden in her stocking - a feather and a silk blindfold.

His eyebrow raised. "What other treasures doth thou hide up there,my pretty one?" he enquired. 

"You'll see soon enough," said Nell. "But alas, not just yet." She blindfolded him and made him recline on the robes, which were lying on the floor.  
Nell put a cushion behind his head as he lay back. Dear lord, that silk and ermine felt amazing against his bare skin.  
Slowly, she ran the feather across his chest, teasing his nipples, then circling his abdomen. Charles chuckled and cried out in joy. His cock bobbed in front of her face, now merely inches from her lips.

"Hmm, how about here?" She giggled, running the feather across the tip of his cock.

"Ahhh, no! Ooh I can't bear it! It tickles too much! Ooh you naughty thing you!"

"I hath no idea a King could be ticklish," Nell said, brushing his balls with the feather. He almost flung himself into the air at the touch.

"So this is your most ticklish spot! My, my."  
All the fine men she had been blessed to encounter were ticklish. Charles Hart had almost begged for mercy when she'd feathered his bare calves. Lord Buckhurst's feet were ticklish. 

She pleasantly tickled him for a bit longer with the feather, then removed the blindfold. The king was laughing so much his sides were starting to hurt.  
"Ohh Nell...no more of this sweet torture, I beg you. I surrender...or at least, part of my body soon will!"

"Do as you will, my Charles," she purred, disrobing and lying naked beside him. 

He moved round until he was on his knees, raising Nell's right leg and pecking quick kisses up her inner thigh, up toward her crotch. When his mouth came to rest just off the side of her outer lips he quickly reared back his head, teasing her. The nectar of a woman now bubbled over from her sopping sex, sodden in heat. Charles would not tease her long, as he then brought his jutted-out tongue to her cunt, pushing it into her tunnel. Her nectar poured over the flat of his tongue, overwhelming his senses with her taste.

It was like ambrosia; a bit salty, not-quite-sour, and intoxicating. He drank it eagerly as it came. Above him Nell held an arm under her breasts, pinching a single nipple, panting with desire. The sight had a grin forming around Charles' open maw. He drew back his tongue and flicked its hot tip across the budding glans of her clitoris, prompting Nell to draw a short, hissing breath and lock her thighs around him like a vice. She yipped and squealed cutely as her King dined on her, sampling with his tongue every last crevice and corner of her cunny. 

Charles could keep his urges at bay no longer. He tossed his long black wig off. He pulled himself from between her thighs and rose to his feet, taking Nell by her calves and gently easing her further into the middle of the robes, so that her legs did not brush the rough fabric of the rug beneath. He crawled over her, putting his knees between her open legs. She wrapped herself around her King, arms over his neck and legs around his hips. 

Charles took his throbbing kinghood in hand, gave it a few readying strokes, and guided it to her waiting cunny. He brushed his cock across her sopping lips, wetting his flared cockhead. He gave her one final, deep kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth, and, at last, eased his aching cock into her depths, parting her folds around his length. She grinded her hips around his, teasing his twitching sword within her tight sheath.  
He thrusted deep and he thrusted hard, rocking Nell's breasts and bottom with every audible slap of his balls against her arse. His parlour had become an echo chamber of lust and love; whimpers, moans, and the slapping of flesh rang off the walls. 

Fine oil paintings of former monarchs and other high ranking persons adorned the walls. It was like being watched, Nell thought. Above the fireplace hung Charles I. He probably wouldn't approve of what his son was engaging in right now. Some corpulent lord was displayed over by the bookcase and his face, squashed and fat was reminiscent of an overfed pug. 

"A pity that's not a full-length painting," Nell smiled. "He'd definitely be sporting a fine hardness."

Charles took a deep lungful of air and groaned over her like a beast, rocking Nell with one long, final thrust. A sharp ecstasy thundered in Charles' gut, the crown of his cock alight with a joyful pleasure. Nell's cunt was a carnal bliss; young and snug, a heated, tight tunnel that hugged and clutched at the Royal cock. Her body demanded his ivory gift, and give it he did. His cock twitched and shuddered as he hilted himself, spilling deep into Nell his long, thick ropes of cum.   
He groaned all the way as he spent himself, his cock twitching out the last few strings of white into his favourite mistress...

The King and his mistress lay there on his robes of state for some time, for how long they couldn't be sure, snuggling, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. Charles' mind felt utterly at peace this time. He was healed. All would be well. He no longer had those horrific dreams of his father's demise. They called him the "Merry Monarch." Though it was when he was with Nell that he was merriest of all.


End file.
